


Evenin' Officer

by infectedscrew



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Backalley sex, Bad Jokes, Handcuffs, M/M, Officer Grayson, Outside Sex, Sex on a Car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infectedscrew/pseuds/infectedscrew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batman runs into a nosy police officer in a Gotham back alley but he can't say he's all that annoyed by it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evenin' Officer

**Author's Note:**

> A commission piece!

Bruce is aware that someone is in the alley with him before they open their mouth to speak. It makes his shoulders tighten but he doesn’t turn away from his vehicle.

“You know, parking in an alley is technically against the law.”

Instantly the tension bleeds out of his muscles. Amusement fights to pull over his lips. He turns his head to look at the speaker over his shoulder. With the cowl on, it’s impossible to see his eyebrow quirking up.

“Only ‘technically’, Officer?” He replies.

At the end of the alley, Dick Grayson is standing with one hand on his hip and a wide, bright smile on his face. The blue rookie officer uniform is snug on his body and is single handled the number one reason why so many people bought the police calendar this year. It’s also one of the main reasons, Bruce isn’t unhappy to see the younger man at all.

“Well, okay, a lot against the law,” Dick answers, lifting his hand off his hip to shrug easily. He steps further into the alleyway. The steps are light and graceful, pulling the dress blues taught over his thighs. “Am I gonna have to arrest you, Mr. Batman?”

Bruce made a thoughtful sound, turning just slightly toward the officer. He looks down at Dick, trying to pin point the exact moment the other man had gotten so close.

“Perhaps we can make a deal,” he offers, letting some of that amusement and a lot of his interest bleed into his voice.

If it had been any other night, if patrol had gone any other way, Bruce wouldn’t even entertain the idea of playing around with Dick’s antics. But it was summer, most of the villains were behind bars and Gotham, for once, was calm. A tiny break wouldn’t destroy anything. Besides, they both had been unable to see each other. Outside of the occasional phone call and maybe a brief greeting in the morning, they had had no alone time. Just the sight of Dick’s smile was enough to remind Bruce of everything he was missing.

Even if a dirty alley in Gotham’s Southside wasn’t the most private, it was enough and both of them were going to take it.

Dick mocks a gasp, bringing his hand up to his chest. “Are you trying to get out of a ticket?” He asks. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

It takes an effort of will to not roll his eyes. Sometimes Dick brought a little too much theatrics.

When Bruce doesn’t answer, Dick continues, “are you trying to imply that I’m one of those /dirty/ cops?”

Dick’s voice dips just slightly into sinful and it hits Bruce’s nerves in all the right ways. He rolls his shoulders subtly and pushes away the heat pooling in his veins for now. He leans forward, bringing their faces very close together.

“Taking care of dirty cops is what I do best,” he breathes.

Two can play at this game.

“Oh,” Dick mumbles, caught off guard for a split second. He swallows thickly, Bruce watching his throat bob and his eyes widen for a second. Then he’s right back into his sultry cop routine. “And what, exactly, can the Dark Knight offer me?”

About a million cheesy lines pop into Bruce’s mind. They are all in the manner of a playboy billionaire, not a hardened street vigilante. Sticking to what he knows best, he goes for action and not words.

Closing the short gap, Bruce crushes their mouths together. One gauntleted hand cups Dick’s jaw to keep him in place. It is not a nice kiss in the slightest. It’s heavy and hard, almost demanding. Bruce nips at Dick’s lower lip before soothing his tongue over the hurt. He can feel the smaller man shudder and can practically hear the aborted groan.

Dick moves his hands to Bruce’s back, pressing forward until Bruce has to take a step toward the car. His knees hit the warm metal.

Before the kiss can go any further, Bruce feels something clamp tight around his other wrist. Suddenly, his range of motion is reduced to only about three inches.

“Did you…” Bruce pulls back, blinking down at Dick who is looking up at him innocently. “Did you just handcuff me to my own car?”

“Have to make sure the criminal doesn’t get away,” Dick purrs, moving his hands to Bruce’s chest, fingers splaying over the famous symbol.

Bruce opens his mouth to offer some sort of token complaint but the words die as he watches Dick lightly kiss his way down the front of his suit. The red, swollen lips are an obscene dash of color against the solid black and gray.

Even through the armor, Bruce can feel Dick’s mouth burning a trail downward. In the back of his mind, he knows he should move their activities to somewhere else. Anyone could walk by the alley or, God forbid, drop into it. But he’s loathe to stop Dick now–especially when those talented hands dip past the catches and seams of his suit to find skin.

“Mm, Batman,” Dick hums, hand sinking past Bruce’s jock and curling around the hardening cock inside. “Are you like this with all the cops?”

“Just my favorites,” Bruce answers, voice low.

Dick beams, the expression almost too sweet for what is happening in a dirty alley. Yet Bruce knows the praise, no matter how small, will hit Dick in all the right ways. The acrobat has always needed it, craved it. Dirty talk will never work as well as sweet compliments.

Bruce lowers his free hand to brush Dick’s hair away from his face, wishing once more that he didn’t have his gloves on just so he could feel the soft strands. The gentle touch is rewarded by Dick tugging his leggings down and releasing over-heated skin to cool air.

A small hiss escapes the unflappable Batman.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Dick states, stroking his hand up the impressive length.

Never one to leave Bruce hanging, Dick closes his lips around the tip and gives a light suck. His tongue presses against the slit, flicking and teasing it before dipping under the head to work against the sensitive gland.

It will never cease to amaze Bruce how good Dick is with his mouth. He always manages to make his knees weak and his thoughts a little fuzzy. On such a good night, he decides not to keep those thoughts to himself.

“You’re doing so well, Officer,” he says, hand tightening slightly in Dick’s hair.

Whether it’s the pressure in his hair or the words, Dick moans around Bruce’s length. It sends sparks right up the Batman’s spine.

“You must be the best one on the force,” Bruce continues, watching Dick below him. He can see how red Dick’s cheeks have gotten, how they hollow as he pulls more in and sucks harder. It’s enough to make the chance of being caught totally worth it. “I can’t wait to return the favor.”

Dick pulls off with a loud pop, swollen lips instantly curling up in a smile. “I’d love to see what you can do.”

Bruce tries not to let his disappointment surface but he must not have been successful if Dick’s chuckle is anything to go by. He groans quietly as Dick strokes him slowly, hand just on the right edge of tight.

Bending just slightly, he grasps Dick’s arm and hauls him up just enough to press their mouths together again. He can taste the salt of his own pre-cum on Dick’s tongue. It’s adding to all the things that are making the encounter heady and perfect.

Wordlessly, he turns Dick and presses him down against the hood. Trapping him against the metal with his knees and hips, he moves his free hand down Dick’s body to cup him through the slacks.

Dick pulls out of the kiss with a moan, head falling back against the hood. He doesn’t bother to be quiet or subtle about what he wants—he never has been in any area of his life.

Bruce nips his way down Dick’s jaw to his neck. He doesn’t stop himself from leaving marks on the smooth neck. He loves to see the slight bruises form on the sun-kissed skin. Loves knowing that he was the one who put them there.

It’s easy to use his mouth to distract Dick enough to be able to unbuckle his belt—a surprisingly easy task despite only having one hand to do it. He tugs the ludicrously tight pants down to Dick’s knees. The gauntlet drags lightly over Dick’s exposed cock, making his hips buck and a shocked groan fall from his lips. The ridged leather moves deliciously over his skin, making his thighs shake.

“God, B,” Dick whispers, hips rocking up toward the heavy hand against him.

Bruce smirks slightly against Dick’s skin. He glances up to see that Dick’s eyes are closed. They snap open again when he feels a second hand, a hand that should very much not be able to move so far, trail down his chest.

“You—“ Dick splutters, watching the buttons on his shirt be popped open.

“Should really find better handcuffs,” Bruce comments lightly, continuing his path down Dick’s chest. “Don’t worry, I’ll save them for a better time.”

Dick licks his lips, clearly excited by the promise of another time. He gasps softly when Bruce’s mouth closes around one nipple, teeth grazing the bud. His stomach tightens as the newly freed hand moves to the other and pinches gently.

As Bruce teases Dick’s chest, his other hand continues stroking slowly, carefully. From the quiet pleas and moans spilling from Dick’s mouth, he knows it’s driving the young man mad. It’s one of his favorite things to do.

“Br—Bat, B,” Dick manages to get out. “You have to give me more.”

“Oh, I have to?” Bruce says, tongue sneaking out to lick over a thin scar on Dick’s stomach.

Dick’s muscles shiver, body arching up toward the clever mouth and hands. “You do if you don’t want a citation,” he gets out in a rough, breathless voice.

Some of that earlier amusement crawls back into Bruce’s mind. He wants to chuckle but mostly he’s impressed that Dick’s managed to keep up the charade. He supposes he trained his former sidekick well.

Releasing Dick, he leans back up. With one hand, he searches through his belt for the lube he always carries. The other he lifts to his mouth. Grasping the leather between his teeth, he tugs the glove off.

Beneath him, he can just barely see how Dick’s pupils dilate with the action and how he sucks in a sharp breath. He lowers the empty glove to Dick’s mouth.

“Hold this,” he states, the words just enough of a command for Dick to open his mouth and take the glove instantly.

Tipping the bottle over his exposed hand, he pours the cool liquid over his fingers. The bottle is set aside for now. He looks down at Dick.

“On your stomach,” he murmurs, voice sliding out low and smooth.

Dick has to close his eyes briefly, just to let the tone wash over him before he’s able to move. The gauntlet closes over one hip to help him shift onto his front side. His skin presses to the melt of the infamous Batmobile, feet planted in the dirt below. It’s just a little degrading and a whole lot perfect.

Bruce soothes his hand over Dick’s backside, fingers sliding between the soft, round cheeks to find his entrance. He has to admire the side of Dick bent before him, ass presented to him and thighs tight.

When Dick makes a needy noise, Bruce knows he’s been staring too long. In apology, he circles a finger around the ring of muscle he so wants to sink into. While they might be in a dirty alley for a quick encounter, he’s not willing to rush things and possibly hurt Dick.

He slips one finger in, drawing a grateful sigh from Dick. It’s not long before he’s able to add a second, carefully stretching and loosening to the tight entrance.

Leaning over Dick, he nips at the back of his ear, tongue running over the shell. It makes Dick’s shoulders tighten and his hips thrust back on Bruce’s hand. In short order, Dick is whining, demanding another finger or something bigger—

“Something better, B,” he pleas, turning his head just enough to look at the man boxing him against the hood, the gauntlet falling against metal.

Bruce has to swallow at the sight of Dick’s flushed cheeks and needy expression. He watches as it breaks into a moan when he adds a third finger, stretching muscle and easing him.

Dick rocks back against his hand, wanting more friction.

“Be patient, Officer,” Bruce breathes. “You’re doing so well.”

Dick bites his lip, hands curling into fists. He keeps his hips still as Bruce removes his fingers, leaving him wanting and very close to begging for what he knew was coming next.

Bruce tugs a condom from his belt. After unwrapping it he rolls it over his cock and pours more of the lube over himself, finally returning the bottle to his belt. He lowers both hands to Dick’s cheeks, spreading them slightly. With the same carefulness, he presses forward and pushes his cock inside.

More of his famous willpower is needed to not just thrust into the tight heat closing around him. His hands tightened over Dick’s ass, most likely to leave bruises. In an after thought, he moves his hands to Dick’s hips; the gauntlet rough against soft skin but the free hand welcoming and warm. He bottoms out, flush against Dick.

Beneath him, Dick is gasping, hips wanting to move but Bruce’s hands keeping him in place.

“B, B, I need you to move,” Dick moans.

Bruce complies, pulling back just enough to thrust forward, hard.

Dick rocks with the moment, mouth opening in silent pleasure. He doesn’t even have time compose himself before Bruce is ramming forward again.

The movements are smooth, just barely controlled. Bruce moves his hands to either side of Dick’s head, towering over the man as he rams into the tight body. The angle pushes him in deeper, harder.

A cry falls from Dick’s lips as Bruce strikes that bundle of nerves that makes him see stars.

“You sound amazing, Officer,” Bruce says into Dick’s ear. His voice sounds shaky and graveled to his own ears, he can’t imagine what Dick hears. “I’m sure all of Gotham can hear you.”

The thought should be worrying but all Bruce wants to do to is make more of those noises. There is just something about Dick that betrays all reasonable action in him. He wants to make him scream, pull those sweet sounds from him.

Dick tightens around him unexpectedly, making him grunt and throwing his thoughts to the floor for a moment.

“You feel amazing,” Bruce continues, feeling Dick quiver and reveling in it. “Your body is perfect.”

Another loud cry leaves Dick and he stiffens under Bruce, back arching and thighs shaking. Bruce doesn’t need to see Dick’s face to know he’s fallen over the edge and his car is going to be painted white.

The muscles clamp down around Bruce, making him groan and dragging his own orgasm from him.

The sound of Dick’s panting is loud and harsh in Bruce’s ears as he pulls himself back together. He pulls out of Dick. Sliding the condom off, he ties and tosses it easily into the nearest dumpster. He’s already tucking himself back into his suit and straightening himself before Dick has had the chance to shift and face him.

“Wow,” Dick breathes, once he has enough air. “I can honestly say you’ve successfully gotten yourself out of this ticket.”

A shocked huff of laughter echoes from Bruce. He finds a rag in the garbage and quickly wipes up Dick’s mess. Throwing the rag away as well, he looks back to Dick who is standing on shaky legs.

Dick’s smile returns and he shoots a wink in Bruce’s direction as he buttons up his uniform. When Bruce shakes his head he adds, “too much? Yeah, I thought the wink really lost the audience.”

“If it was from anyone else, it would,” Bruce comments, just barely a compliment. “Have a good night, Officer.”

Dick leans up to press a quick kiss to Bruce’s lips. “I certainly will. Now get your car out of this alley before I really do have to ticket you.”

Bruce would really love to see the day someone puts a parking ticket on the Batmobile.


End file.
